


XEROX BODIES. (STAR WARS)

by lohaer



Series: LO'HAER LEGACY. [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic, swtor - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-06-07 06:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6789913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lohaer/pseuds/lohaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>┌STATS.<br/>WHO : Admiral/Commander/'Outlander' D'aem Lo'haer ( dame low-heh-air ) & Lord Wren/Darth Imperius X'aem Lo'haer ( ke-seh-aim )<br/>WHERE : Galaxy.<br/>INSP : SWOTR KOTFE.<br/>SUMMARY : D'aem and Wren (X'aem) Lo'haer from the Lo'haer legacy. Pirate Lord/'Boss of all Bosses' and Darth Imperius....</p><p>The background and various stories from these twin OC's. Including but not limited to rewritten scenes from Revan to KOTFE, romance with Theron Shan and Nikky Revel, and endless drabble. Can be graphic.  ┛</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ＷＲＥＮ : ＷＡＲ ＡＮＤ ＰＥＡＣＥ.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ┌STATS.  
> WHO : Lord Wren/Darth Imperius X'aem Lo'haer ( ke-seh-aim ) & Andronikos Revel (ah-en-jron-eh-kus).  
> WHERE : The Fury.  
> INSP : Null.  
> SUMMARY : Wren and Nikky spend a night stargazing after a visit to the cult on Nar Shaddaa goes awry... ┛

Ceremonial-ism is the plague of their infernal world. Of this calamitous Empire. It was a shame that their world had fallen to this, children dancing for Hutts and rich prudes and selling spice for a single ration once a month, falling victim to the cycle of hedonistic decadence. Nar Shaddaa was a hub of this activity, she knew this all too well. Being back on the streets where she once starved and stole credits from under visiting Alderaanian nobles' noses.  
Together, they bathe in the radiant light that the signs tampering off buildings sets off. The sounds of the city are exactly as she recalled, obnoxious and booming. Now, Wren remembers what it means to suffocate. Though perhaps this was more metaphorically than before.  
Dense beaten anthems blast through the entrance of every passing building. She finds them tacky, tasteless, & capable of drowning any sensible man in his own blood as it fell from his ears. Men of every species in the known Galaxy line up outside, just beyond the sensually driven hubs reach. All but foaming at the mouth in anticipation. Disgusting. They knew nothing of what life was like for the women swaying their hips in chains along a sticky, diseased pole. 

Boldly dressed in scarcely armored regalia, a scale-gloved hand finds solace in absently tracing the pads of her fingers along the elegant swirls casting off of her lightsaber. It’s a dizzying, numbing effect to return to this place with her body fully covered. With a pirate, no less. It was difficult not to recall the days when she and D'aem would daydream about having their own ship to soar across the Galaxy, free, living by their own rules. Those days were no more. Word spread quickly about the massacre that took place where they had been kept by their handlers. The entire sector was burned to the ground and no survivors were found, every ship was destroyed in the blasts. 

Regaled as a God among the pirate community, Andronikos didn't live up to his reputation. At least, not around her. His easily triggered temper faltered in her presence, less murderous and more timid. His taunts were the only thing that assured her that he was the same man she met on Tatooine. The Sith Lord swallows, unfeeling like the droids marking their path. Once, she vowed to the Sith her life ——- Through Victory My Chains Are Broken. The Force Will Set Me Free.  
This 'freedom' perhaps, was not what they advertised. It was not, however, like she was given a choice. The Hutts didn't think twice before selling her to the Sith Lord. They took her away to train her for power, now, she’s standing in the very place she fought tooth and nail during the trials to remain far away from.  
Wren shifted uncomfortably as they walked to the port where the Fury was located. Too many memories all at once, and the voices echoing in her head weren't helping the matter. The trade of physical chains to mental chains had been an unfair one - but she was still grateful for what she had now. Nikky gave her a side-eyed glance as they entered the terminal. It would seem that having a majority of her lightly scared face covered wasn't enough to hide her true thoughts from him. 

His past tarnishes who he meant to be.

Maybe she understands.

He offers her a coy look, pretending to be indifferent, though they both knew she saw through it like wax paper. 

Aboard the Fury, she begrudgingly tosses her saber onto her bed, turning away before it even bounced against the thin mattress. Armor would be shed quickly, like it had been a poison doused against her skin. Eating away at her flesh until it reached her core. Her mind was a genuine mess before she started hearing voices whining in her ear every five seconds.

❝ Oh look - she's having a break down. When did they start letting Sith become so WEAK? ❞

❝ She belongs back in the slave pits. ❞

❝ You can't get rid of us so easily, you little wretch. ❞

❝ You don't even control your own mind - how do you expect to control an Empire? ❞

❝ WEAK. WEAK. WEAK. ❞

They're chanting loudly and their voices ricochet off the inside of her skull and back around. She could hear nothing but the reverberation of their crackly, screeching voices. Like snakes spreading their venom with words of cruel intentions and scolding. Surrounding her and bellowing with their slit tongues and fiery red optics, blazing in and out of her soul as she lost control. They were so loud, she didn't even hear her own screaming ——- clutching to her head.

❝ Get out of my head! I'll shut you up even if I have to crack open my own skull and rip you out piece by piece! ❞

A strong set of arms suddenly encase her and heave her up from the ground - when had she fallen? Her body is vibrating and they just keep screaming. Screaming. SCREAMING.  
Wren can't even hear her own thoughts anymore, only the echoes of men who used to be silent. Tricks. Tricks. TRICKS.  
She promised them freedom and in return they torment her.

❝ Damnit, Sith. Look at me. ❞ a voice breaks into her subconscious - she knows it but it sounds so far away, ❝ Don't listen to them. Look at me, huh? ❞  
The voices dull down to a subtle roar, and she breaks her stare on the cold metal floor to meet equally cold eyes. They were the colour of earth kissed by the rains, the hue that promises to stir life from dormant seeds, the nascent plants guided upward by the light before blossoming into the vibrant glow of a new season. They warmed as they met with her solid blue optics.  
He thumbs the silvery water that'd been streaming down her cheeks. The Sith Lord fliches away, hastily wiping at her eyes. Blaming it on how tightly she'd slammed her lids shut - she wasn't this weak - like hell were a faculty of dead Sith getting to her in this way. 

❝ Sit- ❞ she cleared her throat, ❝ .. Ghosts. Never know when it's time to shut their mouths. ❞ 

He doesn't respond right away, only takes this opportunity to take in her appearance. A mess didn't begin to describe it. The black tunic and pleated armor that she'd been wearing since they'd met was in shreds. She thought she'd been taking it off cleanly - but the self inflicted claw marks that tore through her chest plate told another story. Smoke quietly rose from her flesh like a second thought; had she been shocking herself?  
❝ You look like hell on legs. ❞ Nikky announced as if it wasn't an apparent fact.

❝ Go back to bed, pirate. ❞

❝ I've got a better idea. ❞ she knew that grin all too well, ❝ C'mon. ❞

At first, she was reluctant. Drapping the cloak that rested against the ships wall across her shoulders in a futile attempt at covering her caramel flesh. He would pull the ship out of Mezenti Spaceport and hurdle it into orbit - Andronikos usually commandeered the ship, but this was among the first time he'd done so with a purpose all his own. The Pirate didn't seem to have a clue where he was going, deductible by how he paid the Galaxy Map no mind and hurdled them into Wild Space. After a moment, the were only drifting. 

The pain stopped offering the warmth she was attuned to. It was just plain pain that made itself comfortable in her skin. There’s fire inside those eyes of his, and Andronikos almost looked like he did when she turned her cheek at let him kill Wilkes ——- ❝ Slay your demons. ❞ she had said.

Reduced to bruised and bleeding, Wren finds a strange solace in staring at the pirate. Which he caught on to quickly. He grinned softly, walking to the other side of the Galaxy Map. A pair of calloused digits would turn her cranium to face the expansive window, ice blue eyes fixating on the star system beyond the glass. It was illuminating, beautiful really, but she neglected to see the point of what they were doing.  
❝ Nikky, what are you doing? It's just a cluster of stars. ❞ Wren's face would scrunch up slightly, tilting her head to face the man once more.  
He had a habit of running away when things got too serious. At first he thought going to Tatooine and working with the Sith had been a mistake. Now, he was cursed. Infatuated with a woman he could never have; not really, not fully. Any other man would've turned tail by now, but he was frozen in place by those frozen eyes, sometimes he thought that they could see right through him.  
That was what she saw when she looked at him. A wild animal caged and tormented, but Wren was unaware that he felt more free with her than when he had his own ship and crew. 

❝ Just look, Sith. ❞ He mumbled, frowning.

His calm feet approaching made her shiver. Fingers directing her to look back to the stars. The stars were the only things in the known universe that could hold a candle to the luminosity of her eyes. The colour of pure beauty -- ice and blazing inferno meeting in graceful unison to surround her pupils. Wren loved the stars, she often forgot this due to her constantly buzzing life. Between the voices in her head and the mad Sith and his multitude of followers that wanted her dead; it was rare when she caught a moment to think of the things that once made her beam with hope. Now she was a public figure, they depicted her as a ethereal being -- almost godlike -- and bursting with power behind a seemingly unbreakable mask. ❝ Thank you... ❞ Were the only words that she could muster in that moment, feeling his rough fingertips brush against the charred tips of her own. They both knew that he was biting his cheeks to keep from smiling. 


	2. Ｄ'ＡＥＭ : ＲＩＳＨＩ ＡＬＬＥＹ (ｂｇ).

Theron had never been someone to deny himself of the intermittent usage of others to distract himself, especially not from his newly acquired fugitive lifestyle. However sharing a bed with any of the outlaws and traders on Rishi would probably end up being a more heavy endeavor than anything he'd done with the SIS to present. It didn't help that every time he did meet someone he thought might be interested - or interesting enough - he was lucidly distracted by the memory of piercing copper orbs and plump tiers, the ever present fantasy in his intimate affairs.

In any case it had been a little gratifying to know that she was still interested, at least in the banter and spontaneous meetings. His ego was thankful for that much at least, and his imagination had something to occupy itself between hours of slicing.  
Pirate's Cove hadn't been built up with stable mount access in its blueprints, trying to maneuver a speeder around it's meandering ligneous streets was an exercise in ineffectiveness. Rishi had an utterly turbulent ideal when it came to the concept of traffic rules, so unless the agent was making an honest attempt to reach a destination in a particular hurry, he preferred to take the long way.

The swiveling wooden piazzas often ended in dead end alleys, stacked sky high with crates of unidentified produce that was probably booby trapped to explode if you tried to open it without the clearance. It was from one of those rooted places that a familiar voice sounded from.  
❝ Shan. ❞ had her voice hadn't been so distinctive he might have been frightened - being hailed only by his name from a dark alley rarely precluded anything pleasant in his past experiences.  
He looked up to see none other than Admiral D'aem Zame leaning against a rather lengthy crate - differing from the others only due to its metallic shine. She'd forgone the heavy armor adorned with the symbols of her beloved fleet that she'd worn on Manaan, and in the tropical heat and humidity of Rishi, most of her mocha skin had entered his field of vision. Body only covered by a thin red surcoat that clung to her body in all the right places, not leaving much to his already vivid imagination. Her partially mechanical legs were left in plain sights, making him wince inwardly. It wasn't difficult to believe that she was the bloodthirsty pirate overlord, even given her small stature, and the fact that it wasn't merely a tale spun out of whimsy. 

❝ Makin' friends. ❞ she grinned, ❝ meeting fans... This is Pirates Cove after all. ❞ 

❝ Lana told me that she sent you off to deal with Margok. ❞ it wouldn't be the first time she avoided a mission simply because it didn't benefit her.

❝ He doesn't interest me, ❞ D'aem spoke cooly, ❝ you, on the other hand... ❞ she reached and took hold of his jacket, tugging gently, but no less firmly, and backing into the alley. He let himself be pulled, chuckling a little. ❝ Never a dull moment with you, huh? ❞ 

❝ I do own most of the crime industry, ❞ she grinned, backing up against a nearby wall and pulling him flush against her, ❝ I see something I like, and I take it. ❞ 

And that she did. There really wasn't any point in wasting time, so he bent his head and kissed her, and she responded with a level of enthusiasm that was flattering and pleasing to his ego. The next thing he knew they were pulling at each other, tugging on clothes and locking tongues, one of her hands tangled in his hair while the other fisted the fabric of his classic red jacket.  
Fuck had he missed this. He had missed her. But he'd sooner float himself before he'd admit that aloud.  
For the first time in what felt like years, Theron was at a loss for words. He didn't know how to react aside from grabbing at her body and begging her impossibly closer to him. Any spaces between their heat touched skins would be filled soon enough.

❝ Dae... ❞ he breathed roughly, trailing sloppy kisses down the elegant cast of her neck. But despite his efforts to grasp her attention she seemed to be lost in the feeling of him, being there, close to him again. He guessed, he should take that as a compliment, she obviously had been just as hung up on him as he was on her... He hoped.  
His hand would drag up her back and fingers would twine into her hair, lightly tugging to force their eyes to meet, ❝ D'aem. ❞  
❝ What. ❞ she hissed out through gritted teeth, and he couldn't help but grin. It would seem that he wasn't the only one who'd been thinking about the other, ❝ We should be working, Admiral... ❞  
Never let it be said that Theron didn't make her chase after him too.

Bittersweet orbs would narrow, locking onto his own grey scale hues like a scope set on a target- this expression was only visible for a millisecond, but it was just long enough for him to select an emotion from it. Longing, desire and... something resembling contempt. It faded into the atmosphere as her usual smug expression retained.

❝ Can never catch a break with you, huh? ❞ she chuckled absently, paraphrasing what he had said to her only moments ago. Pushing up on her toes to press one last firm kiss to his tiers, the Admiral sauntered off to who knows where- likely not where she was supposed to be.


	4. Ｄ'ＡＥＭ : ＴＨＥ ＡＬＬＩＡＮＣＥ .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ┌STATS.  
> WHO : Theron Shan ( th-eh-ron sh-awn ), Admiral/Commander/'Outlander' D'aem Lo'haer ( dame low-heh-air ), Lana Beniko ( lah'nah beh-nee-k )  
> WHERE : Odessen.  
> INSP : Chapter 8-9 of KOTFE.  
> SUMMARY : Reunion between Theron and D'aem on Odessen via Theron's POV. ┛

❝ And you’re stalling ——- or lying. Not entirely sure which one. ❞ did the Admiral really take him as a fool? They both knew what she was doing. Theron had always been curious when it came to the Pirate Lord, but she'd been gone for five years, and Theron had suffered every second because that damned Sith Lana wouldn't give him any specifics on the Admirals location; likely a wise move on her end, as he would've followed the most insignificant lead to the ends of the Galaxy if it meant that he could see D'aem again. The Admiral loved to play with that, because she knew that he would. Adored it, simply because he didn’t tell her to stop. He played along. The SIS Agent had once followed the pirate to the middle of Imperial Space thinking that some Sith Lord had cut back on a deal and her short temper had gotten the better of her — only to find her lounging on a shipment crate three feet above the floor, aboard a freighter she'd stolen, chuckling about how pathetically whipped he was. Theron never told D'aem that she was wrong about that.

❝ I just wanted you to know, I'll do everything I can to keep things running smoothly around here. ❞ he muttered. A grin would tug her lips back, lips he'd been dying to reacquaint with his since they were on Rishi, her hips swaying swiftly beneath her heavy armor as she walked. He wondered if the bruises the pads of his fingers used to leave on D'aem's skin would still look the same. Caramel coloured digits would rest against her broad hips whilst her mouth pulled a simper next to the shell of his ear ——- he wouldn’t move, it was a standoff between two sides of the same coin. When one of them fell, the other would land on top, and they were both too STUBBORN to back down willingly. He'd never even known just how stubborn he was until he met her, everything became a challenge, and they both hated losing. 

❝ You've always tried to take care of everyone. ❞ her accent pierced his entire being.  
❝ Not just everyone. ❞ Theron responded, barely fighting the urge to reach out for her, he couldn't tell if he needed to feel if she was actually real, or if he was about to pass out from exhaustion, ❝ ... Dae I'm——- ❞ he choked back his words. Clearing his throat. Saying her name again felt strange in the best way, considering it took him almost three years for her to tell him it.

He remembered when he first met her, aboard the Ataxia Revenge, when he first heard her voice from behind a dense red tunic. It was as if someone had cast some ancient spell on him, maybe a Jedi hanging around a known criminals personal freighter and mumbled something along the lines of 'you-will-fall-madly-in-love-with-the-girl-you-were-sent-here-to-apprehend-based-on-the-muffled-sound-of-her-voice'.  
He'd been there four days and knew nothing about her, not even what she looked like, whilst she only saw his face once and knew his entire story ——- her slicers were talented, Theron would give them that. After she all but exploited him to get the Republic off her back, the crew just tossed him into the electric holding cells aboard her fleet, one of them stuck around. Scruffy dreadlocks, sad eyes and dark skin, sounded like he came straight off a farm on Ord Mantell. Took up a seat against one of the presumably empty storage crates with beaten in sides and faded Imperial symbols on its face. They talked for a few minutes before Theron started wondering what his job was there, but just like everything about the Fleet, it would take him awhile to deduct the truth. Which, in this case, happened to be that there were entire families dependent on the CHAOS Fleet and the income it brought in. Women, children, even elders.   


❝ Don't. ❞ she responded coolly, sanguine orbs remaining situated upon the him as his form entered a more visible stage. Her surface a mask of unreadable intentions herself; roguish and unpredictable. Yet elegant, beautiful. Still the same pirate he'd almost killed, and vice versa.  
He couldn't help but take this moment of close proximity to examine her face; he'd seen it battered and bruised, covered in blood. Twisted in anger and ecstasy, covered in war paint and completely bare — but she'd never looked more beautiful than she did then. Their environment of celebrating comrades and drunken followers twisting their bodies to cantina music faded into his subconscious as he took her in. The Admiral hadn't aged a day since he lost her, if anything she looked younger, but tired. Himself, on the other hand, he knew he looked like hell. He hadn't looked in a mirror in months, maybe years to be realistic. Theron assumed that he resembled an old Mandalorian that refused to retire from battle, the bags under his eyes were dark as the night sky and he sulked like a scorned child.  
D'aem didn't seem to care, and for the second time since he met her all those years ago, he saw her facade come to a screeching halt. 

The Admiral made the first move, just like she did on the Ataxia. Twisting her arms around his neck and tugging him down to her level, their lips meeting halfway. There was no battle for dominance, there was unison, harmoniously diving into each others mouth. His arms wrapped around her instinctively, bodice filling his arms, pressing against him. There was no lust, no burning passion sparking by her touch, there was only relief. Maybe this was what the Jedi meant by 'PEACE' in their code. He felt like he was finally home.

❝ I'm sorry I wasn't there to thaw you out. ❞ his voice came out gruff against her soft mouth, his recently dull eyes searching her face for something. Anything. Fixating themselves upon the ghost in his arms, brows kneading together as calloused digits pushed away a piece of hair that'd disconnected itself from the sloppy bun that had become her signature style, holding back long mocha strands that he used to twist between his hands when it was down.  
Close encounters of this format were alienist to them both; he had spent five years hoping and begging that he could only see her once more but this — touching her, holding her, kissing her. It was like he was going into overdrive and he knew he had to let go but he just couldn't, he clung to her like she was the last drop of water on Tatooine.  
❝ Nice to know that you're still whipped... ❞ she teased, causing him to chuckle and bury his face in her neck. D'aem, at least, never changed.


End file.
